


Slave Boys of Morocco

by chains_archivist



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Boys in Chains, M/M, Non-Consentual Sex, Slaves, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 22:50:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4198026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by AZARAD</p><p>Captured by Barbary pirates, officers of Indefatigable endure exotic torments as slaves in the Emir's court.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slave Boys of Morocco

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).  
> \--  
> itle: Slave Boys of Morocco   
> Author: AZARAD  
> Fandom: Hornblower   
> Pairings: Archie/Horatio/Pellew/OC   
> Rating: NC-17   
> Warning: Non-consentual sex and mild violence   
> Summary: Captured by Barbary pirates, officers of Indefatigable endure exotic torments as slaves in the Emir's court.

"No! Take your hands off him!" Horatio shrieked when they dragged Captain Pellew up onto the block.

A proud glance and a little shake of the head silenced the young man. Pellew went quietly and nobly to his fate. He was stripped of his fine uniform, paraded on a chain for the crowd of prospective buyers. The crowd jeered at his age. They howled for warmer blood and sleeker bodies. Even so, a few merchants nodded and counted their coins.

The Captain, for his age, was a fine specimen, muscles taut across his abdomen, his legs strong, his shoulders broad and square. Proudly he stood, naked before the crowd. His head never bowed. Instead, his eyes flashed in anger. No blush of shame colored his face. Again, their brave Captain led the way, Archie thought. His example bolstered the courage of those who waited their turns on the slave block.

The bidding had begun. The foreigner was a learned man. He could read and write. He might make someone a fair tutor for a son who wished to learn the English tongue. He was strong. Surely, he would make a tireless field hand at least. If he were left a whole man, he had a good chance of surviving at least ten years! Come, bid higher! The auctioneer cried.

Archie looked out at the crowd. He was trembling and he barely noticed Horatio's hand stroking his back. He felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. He shuddered. Being stripped, terrified him. They'd send him to the mines, to the galleys if he had a fit and proved a flawed specimen. If they were merciful, they'd kill him at once. Archie did not believe his captors were kind men.

"Look, Arch!" Horatio whispered, pointing out a troop of a dozen men and a beautiful sedan chair carried by matched black slaves. "Do you see the escort? That man is royalty."

Two men step from the sedan chair. The first was an older gentleman in gaudy silks, a jeweled turban and an ornamental scimitar. He was heavyset with a hard face, a hooked nose and thick lips. Certainly, he was rich judging from the size of his silk purse hanging from his sash. The man waved his fly whisk. The auctioneer stopped the bidding and Pellew was dragged forward toward the man and his escort.

"No!" Horatio shouted again, straining to free himself from his own chains and dodging blows from the guards.

Archie stared, helplessly watching his beloved Captain led away. He watched the gentleman's servants poke and prod the captive British officer. They felt his muscles. They opened his mouth. At that indignity, Archie felt sick with panic. He knew he was next on the block. The auctioneer was approaching. Glancing at Horatio, he froze in shocked horror. His friend's face was bloody. One of the guards had struck him.

A powerful grip fastened onto Archie's upper arm. He was being dragged to the block. A whoop of awe went up from the waiting crowd. The sea of faces and waving arms caused Archie to feel dangerously giddy. Just then, he saw Pellew standing proudly between two men of the royal escort as if he were a dignitary himself. He raised his chin and Arch knew the gesture was meant for him. He straightened his back and looked down his nose at the screaming crowd. They wanted him. Well, good, he thought. Bid high, then!

The rich man with the flywhisk waved again and Archie was added to his previous purchase. In minutes, Horatio was added too. A younger man, the second to arrive in the sedan chair, wearing unadorned robes and several weapons, looked the new slaves over closely. With a rare gentleness, he wiped the blood from Horatio's mouth. Then, he ran his hands over the smooth white English flesh. He nodded to his employer and smiled slyly.

Archie shivered like a nervous horse when the man began to examine him. Then a curious thing happened. He stroked Archie's hair and spoke softly to him. Archie saw that the younger man was handsome. He was shorter by a few inches. Horatio towered over him. Yet the younger man was infinitely more attractive than the older gentleman who clearly desired the companionship of beautiful young men.

Perhaps, the pair were lovers. Perhaps they bought Pellew and Horatio because they sensed their bonding. Even so, Archie wondered, what was to be his own fate? Why would they want him? ***************** Marched naked through the dusty streets, the three Englishmen were hot, thirsty and sweaty when they arrived at the gates of a stately home near the center of the town. A long colonnade of palms led to the shaded porticos of the dwelling. High walls surrounded the spacious gardens and the sounds of gushing water and tinkling fountains filled the air. Archie breathed in the scent of roses. He sighed and thought of his home, his mother sitting in her garden, wondering why his letters stopped. The escort stopped. The thickset older man climbed out of the sedan. He gave a few orders to the guards and they divided into two groups. One group walked with him into the palatial home. The others remained with the younger, handsome gentleman. He stepped up to Captain Pellew. "You are an officer?" he asked in heavily accented English. "Yes, sir. And these companions of mine are officers too. We humbly request your assistance..." Pellew stopped speaking when the young Arabic officer began to fondle Horatio. Archie watched Horatio's eyes grow wide. He stood still but his breathing grew rapid. The young man spoke quietly into Horatio's ear. Archie caught a few of the words, master and slave, punishment and torture. Horatio nodded his head. Archie felt his own tension mounting. Captain Pellew stood still but his eyes reflected his concern for his beloved. The Arab looked sidelong at the Captain. He smiled at the effect his actions had on the older man. He stroked Horatio's body. He patted his flat backside as one might pat the rump of a horse. He reached between Horatio's long legs and lifted his genitals. He raised his brow and nodded. Archie began to sweat. He'd seen a stallion gelded once. He felt a guard's fingers grip his arm. He leaned into the man allowing him to support him. The wave of dizziness passed. Archie heard Pellew begin to protest. Then he heard the sudden hard slap. Horatio lunged at the man who had struck his Captain. The Arab watched with a curious smile on his face. The Arab addressed them. "You are no longer officers. You are my slaves. You will obey. You will submit. Do you understand?" "I protest, sir!" Captain Pellew exclaimed. At a slight wave of the Arab officer, two members of the escort attacked the Captain. One held him fast while the other struck him. Horatio tried to tear himself free. He was beaten too. All the while, Archie remained frozen in the arms of his guard. Then, unable to do more, Archie slowly dropped to his knees and bowed his golden head in submission. "Please!" he said. "Don't harm them. Take me." The young master of slaves patted Archie's head. With a wave he ordered Horatio and Pellew away to the stables for a day of work. He told his overseers to guard them well. If one of them caused trouble, he said, the other was to be punished. So Archie watched his friends being led away.

Keeping his eyes down, Archie pushed his head into the hand of the man who stroked his hair. He felt fingers under his chin and his face was lifted. Giving only a glance at the man scrutinizing him, Archie cast his eyes down again and kissed the fingers that trailed across his face. "Stand and follow me," the young master said quietly. Archie did as he was told. Even so, he looked back in the direction of the stables, where Horatio and the Captain had been dragged. He couldn't see them. He craned his neck. "Forget them," the slave master ordered calmly. "You will enter into a very different life." "Please," Archie whispered. He was afraid to say more for fear of angering the man. Not that he was afraid of what his escort would do to him but because he didn't want Horatio or the Captain to suffer. "Please, sir," he said again. "I see you understand the meaning of loyalty. And sacrifice. Good qualities in a slave. For those virtues, you have won your friends my mercy." A rare and beautiful smile broke like the sun through storm clouds on Archie's face. Suddenly fearful that his expression might anger his master, Archie blinked his eyes and brought his emotions under control. The young Arab smiled and led Archie into the stately mansion. Cool halls, courts and inner gardens, spacious carpeted rooms, a library, a sitting room, a small dining room, all beautifully appointed, showing the wealth and power of the owner. And walking the halls, working to keep the house spotless, an army of slaves, all male. Finally, Archie entered into a grand sleeping chamber with a wide balcony overlooking a secluded portion of the garden. The young man threw off his robes and pointed at them as they fell to the floor. Archie dutifully picked them up and hung them on pegs in a small adjoining room. A quick splash under a waterfall surrounded by potted palm trees. Then, Archie was instructed to wash his master and afterwards, to wash himself. Still damp, the young master reclined on his bed. He motioned for Archie to massage him. At the same time, the young Arab toyed with his newest slave, stroking and touching Archie as he bent to perform his duties. Finally, the master beckoned his slave to enter into the bed. Archie froze, unable to approach, his blue eyes wide as the sea and deep with fear and hurt. "Don't be afraid, my golden hind..." the handsome young man coaxed. "I will handle my little doe gently. Fear not the piercing arrow, thrust deep in the vitals. Not yet, my pet. Come now, and rest at my side." Archie took a step closer. The man held out his arms to him and smiled. "What is your name, my golden one?" the Arab asked softly. "Archibald Kennedy, sir." "Arshibal Kayneydi?" "Yes, sir," Archie said, smiling and snuggling closer to his lord and master, rubbing his muscles, continuing the massage and hoping he was pleasing. "Ah, you have the touch. Did you know it?"  Archie shook his golden head. His long waving locks framed his heartshaped face. His blue eyes as prized among the Eastern world as lapis lazuli. The young man was growing more and more familiar in his touches and his tone. He said, "You will call me Emir Abdulhamid." Archie nodded again and gazed attentively into the man's dark eyes. They were even deeper than Horatio's.

 The Emir kissed a path from Archie's chest to his ear. He whispered, "When we are alone, you must whisper my name into my ear. Then, Hamid will be enough. Repeat it for me, now." Blushing, Archie spoke breathily into the man's delicate ear. "Hah mid, my lord." The man shivered and took Archie into a warm embrace. He instructed him further. "Make the sound a little rougher in the back of your throat. Hachmid..." Archie repeated the name until he got it right and his master seemed very pleased and very aroused. The Emir repeated Archie's name too, whispering it softly as he licked and nuzzled the pale limbs from wrist to arm pit, from ankle to crotch.

 The young man kissed Archie's tender lips. Then he reclined and waited, his legs parted a little, his body ready. Archie's hair fell across his features. He bent to his task. The taste was different. The flesh was clean, perfumed with the richness of frankincense. Soft fingers twisted his hair. Harsh breathing marked the strenuous climb to passion's summit. With a deep and shuddering groan, they achieved the pinnacle. Archie drank from life's spring draining his bedfellow of coherent thoughts. Archie sensed his lover's body's natural spasms, the tensing and seizing of muscles, a frantic hammering of the heart and an exhalation like the outpouring of the spirit. Slowly, Hamid sank into the cushions. His eyes glazed like one dying. Fearfully, Archie repeated his name over and over, leaning close to his ear. Finally a broad smile grew on the Arab's lips and the thick, dark eyelashes fluttered. "Ah, Arshibal," he murmured, "I will sell the others and keep only you!" Wordlessly Archie begged, his blue eyes glistening, spilling crystal drops upon his apple cheeks. His glance dropped. He looked away. He sniffed and shuddered. A warm hand touched his shoulder. Fingers found his chin and turned his face. Warm brown eyes searched blue ones. Hamid frowned and Archie wept unashamedly. Archie stretched his arms toward his master, his wrists touching and his palms up, the very symbol of a willing slave. "Take me, Lord. Free my shipmates." "They are very valuable, Arshibal. I would soon be a beggar if I gave away such wealth. Is there a family in your homeland who would pay to have them back?"

"Captain Pellew is rich, sir. And our Captain will pay anything for Lieutenant Hornblower."

"He would not bargain for you?" "I am really of little value, sir, to be quite honest. You see, I'm not a very good officer. My Captain might even be glad to be rid of me!" Archie exclaimed with a little laugh.

"Then I count myself a lucky man that I have found you. I value nothing in my treasury more."

"Then you will allow my Captain to arrange a ransom?"

"I will discuss his fate with the other man you saw with me today. He has not yet chosen a favorite. He has a right to try even you, my golden lamb." At the revelation, Archie's jaw dropped and his expression turned fearful. Hamid petted him and said quite sternly, "And if he chooses you, I expect you to go to him willingly. Is that understood?"

Archie shook his head and gave his master a pitiful look. Hamid couldn't bear it. He threw Archie on his back among the cushions and kissed him hard, biting his shoulder and sucking at his neck. Archie gasped and fought back. He threw all his strength into fending off the man who attacked him. Suddenly he was slapped across the face. The stinging blows enraged him more and he lashed out at his master.

A loud shout brought an armed guard to Hamid's rescue. A scimitar blade flashed and Archie turned his head away to make the blow to his neck a clean one.

Another shout halted the blade's descent. Hamid thanked the guard and sent him out into the hall again. Tenderly, the master touched his golden treasure, soothing him and quieting him with soft speech and fond caresses.

"So my little lamb is really a lion cub? I am pleased." By mid afternoon, Archie, richly arrayed in silks and golden chains, accompanied his master outside into the courtyard. There he chanced to see his former shipmates. Horatio was filthy, knee deep in the dung pit shoveling the rotting mess into a cart to which the poor old Captain was hitched. Only thin rags covered their loins. Horatio's back was striped by lash marks and Pellew's eyes looked swollen. The sun had burned their fair skins a deep rosy hue. They sweated in the heat and looked nearly at the end of their strength.

"Get them both into the shade," Hamid ordered the guards. "They are insubordinate but they are still of great value."

The bright sun made Archie squint. He noticed that Hamid frowned as he watched the guards roughly remove Captain Pellew's harness and then push the two men into the shade of the stable wall. Horatio stepped into the flailing lash, sheltering their Captain from more blows. Archie felt like a traitor wearing riches while he watched them suffer.

The Arab master rubbed his chin and looked the tall, dark-haired young slave up and down. Horatio's dark, foreign eyes were still defiant. His jaw clenched and his tender mouth remained a hard line. Archie held his breath.

Hamid called loudly, "Arshibal! Order this one to kneel." He pointed at Horatio.

Archie approached and gave his best friend a pleading look. Archie whispered, "For the love of God, Horatio, do as he says. Kneel, if you please."

Then, the Emir Abdulhamid spoke again in a commanding voice. He said, "My pleasure slave has earned himself a reward. Open your mouth, slave."  At that point, Captain Pellew said, in his most authoritative shipboard tones, "Lieutenant Hornblower, you are required to stand. On your feet immediately, if you please!"

"Aye, Captain!" Horatio said staring into Archie's startling blue eyes.

Archie turned to Hamid and threw himself at his master's feet. Begging had never bothered him, Archie thought to himself. He'd done it all his life.

The Arab seemed perplexed and even a little amused. His guard had drawn scimitars, as if hoping to receive orders to chop off the infidels' heads. Hamid shook his head and drew Archie up, out of the dust of the courtyard and into his embrace.

"You beg for their lives after they deprive you of pleasure?"

"They safeguard my pride and my honor. Please, punish me instead of them."

"There will be time for punishments later, my brave, young lion. Take them to the baths and clean them up. The honorable Pasha of Japur will dine with us this evening. I think I will make one of you a gift to him. So, see that you are all presentable."

Archie bowed his golden head and nodded. He heard Hamid say a few words to one of the guards and the man moved to Archie's left. The man was a guide, no doubt, who would take them to the bathing chamber. He was an armed guard too. And if they tried to escape, he would shout for his fellows who would take great pleasure in slaughtering them.

The bathes were an oasis of palms and pools of scented water. Silent slaves filled the pools with heated water. Some sprinkled rose petals. A few carried thick towels. The Master of the Bathes was the only man who spoke. He did not seem to know the language of the newest slaves. It didn't seem to matter.

Before entering the courts of the bathes, Horatio and the Captain had been splashed with pails of water to remove the worst of the muck that clung to them. Their rags were removed and thrown into the fire. Then, they were immersed in the first bath and scrubbed vigorously from head to sensitive toes. The Master was called to examine them when the slaves discovered the natural state of their genitalia. Horatio was made to stand, his legs wide apart, his arms held behind his back by two strong slaves. Archie swallowed hard when he saw the master draw back the foreskin of Horatio's magnificent cock. Then, the slavemaster cautiously handled the weighty scrotum as if it contained rare and precious phoenix eggs. Archie's eyes widened when he saw another slave approach with a wickedly sharp blade.

"No!" Archie shouted. "Call Master Hamid," he begged, turning to the guard who had brought them.

The Captain said softly, "Calm yourself, Mr. Kennedy, if you please." Then, he addressed Horatio who was wide-eyed with fright but motionless nonetheless. "Be so good as to remain still, Mr. Hornblower. I would rather not see bloodshed."

With deft strokes, the barber lathered and shaved Horatio's genitals. He smoothed soothing oil into the pale skin and called the brave soldier to attention. The master nodded and petted Horatio who had been leaning back, bracing himself into the grip of his guards.

The barber continued to stroke the fine flesh a few moments longer. Horatio's thighs quivered and he gasped for breath. Then the stroking stopped abruptly and Horatio could not repress a groan of deep agony. The masters smiled. The Captain coughed and looked away from his tortured beloved.

When Horatio's ordeal seemed finished, Archie breathed a sigh of relief and tried to catch his friend's eyes. He could not. Horatio was crimson with shame and he hid his gaze from both his shipmates.

Then the master of the bathes motioned for the guards to bring Captain Pellew closer for his inspection. Pellew walked proudly up to the man. He stood tall and straight, even daring to look the man in the eyes. A guard threatened him but he glared at all his captors. Archie looked on in horrific suspense. It seemed as though the Captain wanted them to kill him.

 The Master of the Bathes inspected the Captain with the same efficiency. He ran his fingers through the generous dark hair on the man's wide chest and followed the trail of it downward. Shaking his head at the barber who was sharpening his blade, he decided to leave the Captain in his exotic state. Archie noticed that body hair was indeed rare and the visiting Pasha might have a fondness for it. How much better for his master Hamid to offer a variety of dishes to a visitor, Archie concluded. Then he worried. What sort of plaything did the Pasha want? A tall, pale young man? A virile, older gentleman? A golden boy? Each of the English slaves had fine qualities. But, which would the Pasha choose? If only he favored none of them. Unfortunately, such a thing would not please Hamid.

The Master of the Bathes examined Captain Pellew's body closely. He traced the lines of several scars. He and the barber seemed in a heated debate even though their voices were low. Archie watched them. Then, the two men turned their eyes upon him! They beckoned for him to approach, to stand behind his Captain. Horrified, he saw the guards seize Horatio and one of them grabbed hold of his balls. Disobedience would be punished. That was clear.

All at once, Archie felt the Bathmaster's hands upon him. The barber had instructed another slave to kneel down. After placing the Captain's hands on the slave's shoulders, he bent Captain Pellew forward. The master readied Archie with a generous amount of the soothing oil and the barber greased the Captain.

"I can't," Archie wailed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Horatio struggle and then he heard the first grunting sounds of his friend's torment.

"Go on, boy!" Captain Pellew whispered harshly. "Don't keep us waiting."

Another agonizing scream from Horatio torn through the air as Archie plunged deeply into his beloved Captain. Tears ran down his cheeks as he pushed and withdrew and pushed forward again. Then he was pulled back. The master nodded his approval and gave all three of them over to the slaves for another washing.  After their bath, they were taken to a room to sleep. They were warned to be quiet or the master would separate them. They nodded and Archie, in hushed whispers, related to them all he knew concerning their possible fates while the Captain examined the injuries Horatio had received on his behalf. At the same time, Archie begged the Captain's forgiveness for what he'd done and Pellew patted his cheek and said it was nothing.

Horatio was exhausted and he fell among the cushions in the corner of the room and dropped immediately into a deep slumber the minute the guards were out of the room. From near the door, Archie watched as Pellew combed the tangles out of the sleeping lieutenant's damp hair. When the Captain finished, he lay down next to Horatio. Then, the Captain looked around and frowned. Archie was still watching him from across the room. Captain Pellew beckoned. Then he patted a spot in the bedding next to him and waited for Archie to come over and curl up beside him. Draping an arm over each of the younger men, Captain Pellew pulled them tight together. So, in this fashion, they slept a few hours side by side.

When the household servants returned at dusk, they clothed each of the English slaves in suitable raiment according to their coloring. The Captain was dressed in soft, supple leather richly decorated with gold and rubies. Horatio was dressed in jade silks adorned with pearls and opals. Archie wore very little cloth, only enough to cover his manhood. Yet, around his wrists, his ankles, his waist and his throat he wore heavy gold set with turquoise. He seemed like one of the heavenly hosts.

When they were prepared, they were given a little rice to eat and tea to drink. They were to serve the other guests and for that reason they should not appear hungry. They nodded that they understood.

In about half an hour, Emir Abdulhamid clapped his hands at the doorway and the three English slaves rose and approached him. He looked at each one, approving of their appearance and their attire. Then he reached out and stroked Archie's left ear. A slight wave and a guard left his escort to return moments later with an old man.

"One more bauble for my favorite," Hamid breathed into Archie's ear.

The old man reached up and stabbed a needle through Archie's earlobe. He worked the hole a bit larger and threaded in a thick hoop of gold from which dropped a sapphire the size of a pigeon's egg.

"Ah, yes!" the Emir exclaimed. "Now, I see perfection. Attend me."

The slaves followed their master into a splendid room lit with oil lamps that scented the air with jasmine. Covered dishes of rich foods were laid upon the low table and cushions were placed upon the floor. Flanked by his handsome retinue of slaves, the Emir made his entrance. The Englishmen were shocked when they saw familiar faces among the guests.

Sitting next to a venerable old Arab gentleman, were three fine English gentlemen. One wore the familiar coat of a Royal Navy Post Captain. It was Black Charlie Hammond, dignified and courteous as ever. The next man wore the red coat of the King's Army and the third wore a finely tailored black frock coat typical of a diplomat.

Archie felt a blush warm his skin from his toes to the top of his head as he stared into the soft eyes of Henry Thomas Clayton, Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs. At the same time, the raised cinnamon eyebrow of Colonel the Lord Edrington greeted Horatio while he returned a huge round-eyed stare and a gaping mouth. Without missing a step, Captain Pellew nodded to all three of the gentlemen who were unable to repress smiles of delight.

The Emir sat upon a soft cushion and said what must have been a Muslim prayer. He passed a basket of bread to everyone seated around the low table. Archie was signaled to serve the coffee. When his task was finished he knelt behind his master's cushion. The older Arab had chosen Horatio to kneel at his elbow. Captain Pellew, without any loss of his own dignity, served the three foreigners.

At the conclusion of the sumptuous meal, the Englishmen burped and complimented their hosts. Then Mr. Clayton opened the bidding for the slaves. He stated that he was authorized by His Royal Majesty the King of England to bargain for the freedom of Sir Edward Pellew and Archibald Kennedy. He explained that Captain Hammond represented other naval officers who would add to the ransom for Captain Pellew if that were necessary. The Earl of Edrington negotiated privately for the safe return of Lieutenant Hornblower using his own considerable fortune.

The Emir Abdulhamid smiled and shook his head. He gazed at his Arshibal and stroked his golden thigh. He traced the line of his jaw to his ear and touched the golden hoop that pierced the lobe. He wet his fingertip in a drop of fresh blood and tasted it.

The Emir said, "No amount of gold can purchase a drop of this one's blood. I found him and he is mine. I have determined that he is priceless."

"Then what is my government to do, sir? My king demands his subjects be returned."

"Before these men came to my house, I knew nothing of your king or your country. I was intrigued when word came to me that three such men were for sale in the slave market. I rescued them and they are mine. At the same time, I have been searching for allies of a noble nature, truthful and trustworthy. So I put these men to the test. I have concluded, that if your king has officers like these in all of his forces, men willing to suffer and die for one another, I would gladly welcome your king as my friend and whatever he chooses of my belongings would be sent as gifts to him. Such is our custom."

Undersecretary Clayton replied, "Our king wishes to have your friendship and with it, freedom for his subjects within your borders."

Then the Emir turned and spoke to Archie, "Will you, Arshibal, my golden lion, share salt with me? Will you forgive the suffering I caused you?"

"Oh yes, my lord Hamid."

"And you, Captain Pellew? Will you forgive the indignities I forced upon your noble person? Will you forget the harsh cries of your beloved as he bore the lash for you at my command?"

"For my nation's sake, I will, sir."

"And you, Dark-eyed Eagle! How steadfastly you bore all your suffering. So defiant and proud. From you I could have bred a line of janissaries that would have made the world tremble. Will you too forgive me?"

"If my Captain so wishes, sir."

"Then by my decree, you are free men. All that you wear is yours as my gift to you. Your courage in the face of adversity helped me understand your people and your king. Now please, eat and drink and enjoy some entertainment."

The Emir clapped his hands and a troop of acrobats appeared and performed for the guests. Doe-eyed boy dancers and slim young male musicians followed. The room slowly filled with a blue haze of intoxicating smoke from a half dozen houkas.

Edrington found Horatio reclining in Pellew's lap. The Emir stroked his favorite Arshibal as he made love to the Royal Undersecretary. The Pasha of Japur was being entertained by a lively acrobat. And even Black Charlie found himself fondled by a brace of young musicians whose fingers played his chords and charmed mellow music from his vintage frame. Oddly, his last conscious thought was of Dreadnought Foster.

The End


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